A/N: Yay for new chapters! This one is a little shorter than I would normally like, but I got behind last week, and have been playing catch-up with my stories ever since. Of course, I'm also the author; I automatically hate everything that I write, so as long as you enjoy it, that's all that matters to me.

Thank you to Esha Napoleon, D Torres, alethea293, Jemima Flute, miles89 and extremist for reviewing the last chapter! You...are...AWESOME!

Chapter 10: Sweet Dreams

Melina lurched unsteadily to one side, grabbing onto the wall for support. Her brain felt like it was flipping end over end inside her skull, and the people around her had been reduced to little more than moving smears of color in her vision. No one took notice of her. On Raw, she might be the Dominant Diva, but here, she was just another drunk pretty girl. If anyone from the roster saw her now, there was a good chance she'd never live it down.

But the paparazzi princess didn't care. That was the great thing about being drunk—you could make a complete ass out of yourself and not give a damn. You could say whatever popped into your head without worrying about the consequences.

You could make out with your nemesis—and enjoy it.

Melina closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against the wall. She had enough self-awareness to know that she was pretty much obliterated by now—everything seemed surreal at this point—but for some reason, one moment stood out in her mind with absolute and total clarity: the moment she had kissed Jeff Hardy back. Part of her was appalled—even tequila couldn't banish her old habitual arrogance—but another part of her…was exhilarated.

She had never felt this way before, not when MNM had won their first tag team championships, not even when Johnny had won the Intercontinental Championship. This feeling welling up inside her—like electricity dancing across her skin—she'd never even known that she could experience sensations like this…and she hadn't realized until now how much she craved it.

And all it had taken was one kiss to awaken this need inside her. One kiss—not from her boyfriend…but from his worst enemy.

The Dominant Diva slowly opened her eyes, her full lips curving upwards into a satisfied smile. Wouldn't it be funny if she walked in on Johnny right now, standing there silently while he and that stripper fumbled for their clothes? Would it be hilarious if, after listening to her boyfriend's laundry list of frantic excuses, she calmly informed him that—while he was busy banging that ECW bimbo—she had been sucking face with Jeff Hardy?

The thought was tempting—too tempting to resist—and any rational deterrents her mind might have possessed had been long since dulled by alcohol. Moving carefully, using the wall for support, the paparazzi princess made her way to the VIP area. Pausing for a second to fix her hair—even while intoxicated, old habits died hard—she ripped the curtain back with a flourish, the perfect remark ready on her lips—

The space was empty.

Melina frowned, bewildered. The sight of the vacant VIP area was so not what she was expecting that for a moment or two, she literally didn't know what to think. Gradually, however, comprehension kicked in, and the Dominant Diva's smirk faded as she realized that Johnny had left her behind.

First, her boyfriend had betrayed her. Now, he had abandoned her. Yes, this truly was one hell of an evening.

Melina stumbled into the space, her gait growing less steady with each step. With one hand, she reached up to touch her lips. She knew that she should be furious, devastated, something—but for some reason, all she could think about was the feeling of Jeff's lips moving over hers, the sensation of his hands on her face, her neck.

All she could think about was—why wouldn't this room stop spinning?

The last thing Melina remembered before she passed out was the floor rushing up to meet her—and the look of longing she had seen in Jeff Hardy's eyes.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shoved his hands into his pockets, firmly telling himself that this was it; that after this, he would head back to the hotel. He knew that he was probably lying to himself; this was his sixth lap around the nightclub. Five times, he had gotten to the exit with every intention of leaving, and each time, something, some inner part of him, kept him from doing so. It was like he had forgotten something, although a thorough check of his person told him that all of his necessary items—wallet, cell phone, etc.—were safe and secure.

So what, then? What was he forgetting? What was compelling him to hang around this place; a place that, after a few hours, was starting to grate on his nerves?

That was easy; the Charismatic Enigma knew the answer to that question, even if he didn't want to accept it. He was looking for Melina. That was the reason he was still here, that was the reason he kept wandering around here like a tool. He was still chasing after the paparazzi princess, even though she had made it pretty clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Had she, though? The way her body had leaned into his, and the way she kissed him back…

No. Melina was drunk, that's all. Once the Dominant Diva sobered up—if she even remembered anything about this night—she would be mad as hell. She would spin the story to her boyfriend, making Jeff look like a sex-crazed maniac, and then the Rainbow-Haired Warrior could expect a whole shitload of grief from that pretty-boy asshole. And if Maria found out—

He needed to walk away from this one. If he placed any value at all on either his well-being or his social standing, then he needed to leave this one alone and forget that it ever happened.

But instead of turning around, instead of leaving, the Charismatic Enigma kept moving forward, unable to forget the genuine misery in Melina's dark eyes…

He had passed by a curtained alcove—one which no doubt housed a VIP area where a "loser" like him was not welcome—when he paused. It was hard to hear anything above the conversation and the ceaseless throb of techno music, but he was certain that he had heard a muffled THUMP, as though something heavy had landed on the floor.

Jeff looked out at the other club-goers. No one else seemed to have heard anything amiss; they were too busy pursuing their goals of sex and booze. He turned back toward the curtain. Whatever was happening back there was none of his business—if anything, he was just searching for yet another excuse not to leave. But somehow, that logic wasn't enough to prevent the Rainbow-Haired Warrior from striding to the curtain, or from pulling it back without so much as a prepared excuse.

At first, all he saw was two legs, sheathed in a pair of black stiletto boots. His gaze traveled upward, taking in the short black skirt, the purple top, but it wasn't until he saw the mane of red-brown hair that he realized who he was looked at.

Once again, and against his better judgment, he was in the presence of the paparazzi princess. A clearly passed-out princess.

For a moment, Jeff was tempted to just leave her there for someone else to find. After all, what had the Dominant Diva ever done for him? But in the next instant, an involuntary surge of empathy washed away that impulse. The Charismatic Enigma had been trashed on a fair number of occasions—more than he'd care to admit—and the majority of them hadn't ended well. If there was anything that past experience had taught him, it was that no one deserved to be left passed out on the floor—not even a shrew like Melina.

Jeff stepped cautiously into the VIP area, his green irises scanning left and right in search of Nitro. However, he soon realized just how ridiculous his apprehension was. If Johnny Nitro was here, the last thing he would do was leave his girlfriend lying face-down on the floor.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior approached the unconscious Diva, kneeling down and gently shaking her shoulder. "Princess?" No response. Jeff tried again. "Princess?" Still no response. This time, the younger Hardy brother shook harder, raising his voice a little. "Melina!"

At this, the Dominant Diva groaned, turning her head to the side and peering at the Charismatic Enigma through half-closed lids. "Who…" she slurred. "Who are you?"

Jeff felt the corner of his mouth twist up in a half- smile. "Don't you remember, princess? It's me—the washed-up loser." Melina didn't respond to his quip; only turned her face back toward the floor. For a few seconds, she didn't move. Then, Jeff saw her arms trembling with effort and realized she was trying to push herself up. "Whoa, easy now!" he exclaimed. Quickly, he took hold of her shoulders, carefully lifting the paparazzi princess up into a sitting position.

Jeff put one hand on her back to steady her, peering into her face. "What're you still doing here, princess?" He cast another look around the VIP area, even though it was evident by now that he and Melina were its only occupants. "Where's that dick boyfriend of yours?"

"Johnny?" Melina let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. She let her head sag back, her brown eyes staring off at nothing. "Johnny—he left me."

The tone in which she uttered those last three words was so piteous that Jeff felt another wave of empathy for her. He gritted his teeth, cursing Nitro under his breath. There were dick moves, and then there were dick moves, and then there was this. Jeff had done some pretty shitty things in his life, but never had he left his girlfriend passed out at a club by herself where any random stranger could take advantage of her.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior studied the Dominant Diva for a few seconds. Melina's normally olive skin was a sickly shade of greenish-white, and her dark eyes were glazed and unresponsive. It was pretty clear what Jeff had to do. He couldn't leave her here, obviously, and there was no way in hell he was tracking down that douchebag Nitro.

So that left one other option—one which he was surely going to regret.

The Charismatic Enigma sighed, taking hold of one of Melina's limp arms and draping it across his shoulders. With great care, he pulled her to her feet, wrapping one arm around her waist to steady her. "Come on, princess," he replied. "Let's get out of here."

Melina was out of it; it took a monumental effort just to get her to put one foot in front of the other. She didn't say anything as Jeff led her outside into the crisp autumn night, or when he succeeded in hailing a taxi, or when he carefully maneuvered her into the vehicle's back seat.

The cabbie, a heavyset man in his late fifties who bore a slight resemblance to Howard Finkel, leered at the drunken Diva from behind the protective Plexiglass. "Cute girl," he remarked. "She your girlfriend?"

Jeff, preoccupied with adjusting Melina's body so that she was safely ensconced in the seat, shot a glare at the older man. "No." he snapped.

For a second, the cabbie looked crestfallen, before his face lit up in an expression of lascivious comprehension. "Ohhh…I get it…" He flashed a toothy smile at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "You don't need to explain; I see how it is."

No, I'm pretty sure that you DON'T…Jeff wanted to retort, but he kept silent. The cabbie could believe whatever the hell he wanted to believe; right now, Jeff's biggest concern was making sure Melina got back to the hotel in one piece.

The cab driver put the car in drive, easing the vehicle out into traffic. As soon as the cab lurched to life, Melina's eyes flew open, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oh God!" the paparazzi princess wailed, her normally strident voice muffled. "I'm gonna puke!"

Instantly, Jeff dived across the seat to the window crank, turning it as rapidly as the mechanism would allow. The cabbie shot a concerned glance over his shoulder. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "That chick better not puke in my cab!"

"Why do you think I'm rolling the window down?" Jeff shot back. Luckily, the window descended all the way, filling the car with cold clean air. Jeff gently turned Melina toward the window. "Come on, princess," he urged. "Breathe—it'll make you feel better."

For once, the Dominant Diva didn't argue, and instead, took several deep breaths. She gradually removed her hand from her mouth, hugging herself with both arms. "Cold," she whispered, and when she turned back toward Jeff, the younger Hardy brother could see that her full lips were trembling. "So cold…"

Jeff didn't even think; he just stripped off his jacket, draping it over Melina's bare shoulders and arms. As he did so, the paparazzi princess leaned against him like dead weight, her head resting against his chest. For a second or two, Jeff froze, unsure of how to react.

But just like every other moment of hesitation, this one, too, passed, and he wrapped his arms around her slender frame, holding her tight against him as the cab sped toward the hotel.

As soon as Jeff opened up the door to his hotel room, Melina bolted inside, shrugging his jacket off her shoulders in the process. Soon after, the younger Hardy brother heard retching sounds, and was glad that he'd decided to leave the bathroom light on before he left.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stepped into the bathroom. Sure enough, Melina was hunched over the toilet, puking her guts out. Jeff felt a small sympathetic smile touch his lips. He walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it up with cold tap water.

Kneeling down beside the Dominant Diva, Jeff pulled back her long reddish-brown curls, keeping them out of her face. Securing her hair in one hand, he used the other to gently rub her back, all the while murmuring soothingly to her. "There we go, princess, that's it. Believe me, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot better when this is over."

Eventually, Melina's convulsions stopped, and the paparazzi princess slowly sat back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Jeff reached over, taking hold of the lever and flushing the toilet for her. "There now," he murmured. "It's all right, it's all right—"

The Dominant Diva glanced over at him. Her face was wet with tears; her eye makeup had run down her cheeks. "I'm—" she began, then stopped. After a few seconds, she tried again. "I'm…sorry—"

"Don't apologize to me, princess," Jeff interrupted gently. "Believe me, it happens to the best of us." He held out the water glass, waiting until she had both hands around it before letting go. "Here, drink some of that; you'll feel better."

Immediately, Melina raised the glass to her lips, drinking the water in savage greedy gulps. Jeff instantly grabbed the glass, pulling it away from her. "Hey!" he admonished. "Not so fast, okay?" He handed her the glass once more. "Sip it slowly—otherwise, it's gonna come right back up." The paparazzi princess reluctantly obliged, sipping the water. While she drank, Jeff stood back up, moistening a washcloth in the sink. Kneeling back down, he used the damp cloth to wipe the makeup off her face. Her thirst sated, Melina lowered the glass, handing it obediently back to Jeff.

The Charismatic Enigma sat back on his haunches, studying her face. Slumped against the toilet, hair tousled, no makeup—and yet, she was still beautiful. If anything, she was even more beautiful than the bewitching Diva at Johnny Nitro's side. He was seeing—really seeing—her face for the first time, without the usual façades and barriers she had erected around herself.

You don't know me!...Wasn't that what she had screamed at him? Maybe she was right; maybe he didn't.

Maybe no one did.

Jeff shook his head briskly, forcing himself back to the present. He looked hard at the Dominant Diva. "You feeling better?" This question earned him a nod. Jeff glanced at the doorway, and then back at her. "You want to lie down?" Another nod. "Can you get there without my help?"

This time, his query earned him a reluctant head shake. Jeff sighed again, and then extended his arms to Melina. "Here—grab onto my neck." The paparazzi princess obliged, and Jeff lifted her easily off the tile floor, carrying her through the bathroom doorway and out into the main room. She was light—she seemed to weigh almost nothing—and Jeff could feel her skin burning through the thin fabric of her clothes.

Moving over to the bed, he laid her down on the coverlet, sitting next to her. Taking hold of one of her feet, he pulled it into his lap, unzipping her stiletto boot.

At this, Melina struggled, showing her first signs of resistance. "What—what're you doing?" she asked, her voice still slightly slurred.

Jeff turned his head, shooting her a grin. "Don't worry, princess," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior assured her. "This is the only clothing of yours that's coming off tonight." He unzipped the first boot and moved onto the second. "Figured your feet would thank me in the morning." Once the second boot was off, Jeff peeled back the comforter and sheets. He lifted Melina onto the top sheet, making sure her head fell comfortably onto the pillow, before pulling the covers up to her chest.

He had just reached over to switch off the light when he felt Melina's hand take hold of his. "Jeff?" the Dominant Diva whispered. Her voice was so weak, so unsure, so unlike Melina that for a second, the younger Hardy brother didn't recognize it. Slowly, he looked down at her.

Melina stared up at him with a countenance that was more confused than anything else. "Why—" She struggled to get the words out. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Jeff didn't answer at first, but instead looked down at Melina's hand covering his. Impulsively, he slipped his fingers through hers, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I don't know," he admitted, and it was the truth. He honestly didn't know why he had taken the time to care—Lord knows Melina had never given him a reason.

"Your eyes…" Melina's voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear it. She must be falling asleep by now. Jeff looked up, fixing his gaze on her face. The paparazzi princess's brown irises. "Your eyes…" she repeated, more insistently this time. Down at his side, the Charismatic Enigma felt Melina's fingers entwine even tighter with his, felt her squeeze his hand in return. "…all I see…anymore…"

With that, Melina's eyes closed, her breathing becoming deep and regular. Her hand, which had gripped his so tightly, now relaxed in sleep.

Jeff watched her for several long seconds. Right now, she was truly at her most beautiful. In sleep, everything that upset her, everything about her that he hated—none of that was visible. Only this peaceful, almost angelic countenance.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior carefully disentangled his hand from hers, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead—the last kiss he would probably ever give her.

"Sweet dreams, princess,"